


Nightmares

by Mrs_Don_Draper



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Daddy Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-01
Updated: 2010-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:37:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Don_Draper/pseuds/Mrs_Don_Draper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don and Pete share a bed at the SCDP hotel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fallen_woman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallen_woman/gifts).



"Accounts gets the bed," Roger had immediately declared. Aside from a pointed look from Joan, no one had objected. It was still a surprise, however, when Don walked into the office's bedroom and found Peter Campbell curled up under the cushy blanket, fast asleep. Don rolls his eyes, removes his hat and jacket before sitting down on the edge of the queen sized bed to take off his shoes. It's been a long day, and Pete is not the only one who's tuckered out.

He reaches out a hand to give Campbell a shove. He just needed enough rest to take the edge off so that he could be ready for an all-nighter with Roger, Cooper, Lane, and Joan, but he couldn't do that if Campbell was sleeping like a starfish. Pete makes incoherent mumbling noises and an annoyed shooing motion with his right hand.

"Jesus, shove over, Pete," Don grumbles. He carelessly tosses his blue tie into a corner of the room.

Upon hearing Don's voice, Pete immediately wakes up.

"Hell's bells, what are you doing?"

He's positively scandalized. Don figures he must have been practically sound asleep, thinking that no one would come in and disturb him. He was dressed only in his white cotton undershirt; his slacks were wrinkled from being slept in.

"Keep your voice down!" Don hisses. "We're all trying to get some sleep before we start the meeting."

"You weren't planning on sleeping _here_, were you? That's just indecent," Pete says, nose in air.

Don ignores him and begins to unbutton his shirt, ignoring Campbell's holier-than-thou attitude. He was exhausted. He had seniority. He was going to sleep there whether Pete was in the bed or not. Don pulls down the covers on the left side of the bed and slides underneath them. Campbell seemed appalled at the mere idea. He quickly moves himself to the edge of the mattress, unwilling to admit defeat but also unwilling to sleep near Don.

"Don, can't you please leave?" he pleads.

"Just shut up and let me sleep."

Don rests his head onto the pillow and pulls the covers over his shoulder with his back to Pete's. In a tiff, Pete brings his legs up to his chest, extremely uncomfortable with this whole situation. He desperately wanted to go back to his dream world, but having Don in the bed made him mad. Why must Don always be the one to get his own way? He couldn't even sleep comfortably without Don taking up half the bed! He shut his eyes tightly and tried to imagine that he was anywhere but here.

He tries to picture Trudy laying next to him, holding him close after a dreadful nightmare of nameless faces and monsters that were out to get him. Pete wishes he could roll over, make love to Trudy, and fall back into a peaceful sleep. But nothing could shake the fact that this was Don Draper, all American male in the bed next to him, and not his lovely wife.

His breathing becomes rapid, and he tries to keep his panting as quiet as he could. It was anger and annoyance that bring the tears. Stupid, fat tears that he tries to hold back. He tries to be quiet, but he's so tired and frustrated that he ends up making noise anyway.

"What the hell is it now?" Don asks groggily.

He turns over to see what Pete's problem was. There were dewdrops were stuck to Pete's lashes. His pink mouth was set in a solemn pout as he tried (and failed) to muffle his noises. Hands fisted in the covers. Don could not help but feel concerned at the site.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing. Please just go. I can't stand it!"

His voice breaks as he begs Don to leave.

Don reaches out a tentative hand to soothe the younger man, an instinct now after having three children, only to have him flinch.

"Don't act like you care about me. As long as you have your way, screw everyone else, right? I doubt you care that I've had a nightmare before you came in, and now I can't get back to sleep without Trudy."

He sucks in his bottom lip, worrying it with his pearly white teeth. Don is speechless...and admittedly quiet concerned. He could only stare with his large brown eyes, trying to figure out what to do.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Pete throws off the hotel's covers and runs barefoot to the large marble bathroom. He crashes to his knees and promptly throws up his lunch and dinner. Don follows him. Pete sobs into the toilet, making his cries bounce off the bare walls. Don runs a glass under the tap and calmly hands it to him. He looks pitiful. Pete sips it carefully and throws up one more time.

Don wets a washcloth and kneels down next to Pete. He takes the tear stained face in his hand and gently runs the cloth over Pete's mouth, forehead, and the back of his neck. Pete leans into the ministrations like a plant to sunlight.

"I wish my father had been like you," Pete whispers into the empty room.

Something clicks into place. It made strange sense why Pete acted so starved for attention and craved it so much, especially from him. Pete didn't care whether it was for good or bad as long as it was from Don.

"We're going to get you to bed," Don replies.

He helps Pete to his feet, who immediately wraps his arms around Don's neck, making Don half carry, half support him back to the bed. He places Pete on his side giving him a perfect view of a night sky. A soothing picture, Don hopes. He presses the covers in around Pete a bit to ensure he would fall asleep again. At least Pete could sleep; Don had a meeting to go to. Someone was already softly knocking at the hotel room's door.

From the doorway, he turns around to check over Campbell one more time. Pete rolls over to face him. His face looked so very sad. Had Joan not called for him, he might just have gone back to the bed.

"I'll be in the other room if you need me."

"Yes, Don."

Don flicked off the lights.

Pete slept.


End file.
